Flipping Through The Pages: A Modern Day Book Thief(title may change)
by FantasyWorld1
Summary: Danielle Green is a girl who's mother recently passed. She tries to cope with her new life in New York with her new foster mother, Mary Watson. With the help of a few friends, and a few books, Danielle will realize that everything happens for a reason, and realizes she can make a change. It first starts with a word, and it ends up filling the page, creating a story of life.
1. Chapter 1

There is something I must confide today. I have never seemed to realize this, and I have never been brave enough to say it. But today, this is how I will start the story:

*****I am BORED*****

Who would have thought that your narrator, the one and only, _Death _itself, would be bored? No one, I bet you. But face it, I am bored. I am tired; as tired as your old Uncle George. Carrying human souls for millions of years... The planet is only a billion itself. Trust me, I have enough experience to know how it feels to be bored, and tired. Yes, I know that to be bored and to be tired are two different things. We can all learn something new.

*****A lesson in Vocabulary*****

**Tired: to be weary**

**Bored: To be weary because you lack interest in what you are currently doing.**

And today, that is what I am. I am bored, because all I so is carry souls, and look at their colors. Even though I admit that is a pastime. But I just have this feeling that I need a vacation for the next thousand years, and then I'd be back on my feet, right? Wrong

If I go on vacation, when I come back, there will be millions of souls piled, and I would be responsible for your misery, and I feel like no one would like that. But maybe I could take just a little vacation. I need a rest from seeing humans at their best and worst.

In fact, maybe you would like to come with me? Don't worry, we won't be going anywhere to far, or to close. The amount of time it takes for us to finish our journey depends on how long it takes for us to finish. So I'm sure you would like to cooperate.

we will be going to a place known as America, where there is another girl who earns the title of the Book Thief as well. It won't be the same story. It is much, much different, but similar in some matters. I'm quite sure you would recognize it.

Are you interested? If so, come with me. I'll show you something.

*****A disclaimer from your fanfic author*****

**I don't own the Book Thief. Sadly, it belongs to Markus Zusak. But I am glad it does*****

**If you are reading this, PLEASE post a review, in any language, let it be in Chinese, Italian, reviews count no matter in what language they are(I could read in Russian, hint hint to all you Russians out there who like the Book Thief. Thank you so much! I hope you dont think I am trolling the Book Thief, I just got this idea... Thank you for your support.**


	2. A New Story Starts, A Promise Made

Yes, the first encounter. It was quite a key moment in the story.

Our first 'meeting' was at State June's Hospital, in the heart of New York. I visited this place frequently, carried maybe two or four souls in a spare amount of time. I am not the type to count everything I do.

I entered room #243, where a girl with messy dark brown hair, and deep brown eyes were sour from crying. What I noticed was that her eyes had a shade of dark brown. _**Chocolate **_brown.

"Mother…" she whispered. I listened closely. "Please don't leave. I have been with you for many months here. You're strong. You can handle this. You have four two years!" Her voice was begging me. Begging me to leave, but I did no such thing.

The woman lying on the hospital bed… I assumed she was her mother

"I thought that I could beat this battle, but unfortunately, the forces of nature are stronger than my hopes..." her mother said. She was weak, and wasn't going to last much longer. I didn't want to watch, but I eventually listed some more.

"You can live without me. Your heart is strong, and you are clever. Anything that I could ever have hoped for" said the Mother. She had a wrinkled forehead, and the same messy hair as her daughter. Her eyes were the same chocolate brown. They were about to close.

"Please mother, "whispered the girl. "Do not leave me. I can't survive this world without you! You have to stay! Please…"

"You are wrong, Danielle" So that was the girl's name… "You are stronger than anyone I know"

That is when her Mother slipped into my arms, and into an everlasting sleep. And that is when I made a promise. Something I didn't do in quite a while…

As I carried the soul, I said "Don't worry; I'll watch over her"

That is what I did for a long, long time.


	3. The Funeral

It was raining on that day, almost as if the entire world was crying. Tears were shooting down rapidly from the Heavens, and lightning crashed together, expressing its anger.

There were over fifty people in such a small church, listening to the pope's prayers. The girl was listening tensely, showing pure hatred to the world through her eyes.

The pope was quite a proud figure; he wore a silvery gold robe, and carried the cross in his hand.

"Let this day not be a time of loss and sorrow, but a day where we hold are hands in prayer, and speak our blessings" And the people did so. They held hands, and some did the cross sign, showing their gratitude and respect.

What was strange, was the fact that the girl did not hold hands with anyone, and just stared at her mother's dead corpse body. I wish I could say sorry, or comfort her, but of course that is not aloud.

Danielle stared, listening to the quiet mumble, and the whistling of the trees. She expressed anger, but deep down, I knew she had fear. Fear of living without parents; an orphan. What would people think of her? That she was a ragamuffin? Someone who was a dirty street animal? One thing she knew was that she would not want to go into foster care… I was able to read her mind just like I notice the colors. She is an open book.

"Let us say a final farewell to Ms. Rose Green, who gave birth to a beautiful daughter, and married a veteran who died protecting our nation. Let us say grace!" A second after you could hear a chorus of "Graces" and "Bess Ye the Lords" as well as "Bless the child whose mother is now with Jesus" es. But all the girl did was cross her arms and slouch on her chair, like nothing of this meant to her and it was wasting her time. But everything about this day was meaningful to her, I could feel it.

The funeral finished a few moments after, and we can see the girl slouching on a taxi seat, the inside of the car smelling like dust, tar, and misery. However, the most common feeling was fear. Fear of what would become of her without her family. She was being sent to her foster mother in New York. A cold look on was smothered on the girl's face as the driver asked where she wanted to go. Danielle gave him the address, and the driver nodded.

"You know, it's not that far from here. Are you sure you don't want the fresh air?" the driver asked. Danielle shrugged. "I feel too miserable to walk today" she said.

"Suit yourself" said the driver.

After a half hour driving, the taxi made a stop at house #347, in Main Street. It stopped by a white house with a stone carved passage way. The air outside was cold, but the house made Danielle feel a welcoming sensation. There were a few plants near the door, which were a withered green.

Once Danielle paid the taxi driver her fee, it silently drove away, leaving her and the house alone.

As she rang the bell, she imagined what her new mother would be like. Tall, beautiful, blond, and warm? Or would she be a cold, heartless mother who treats her like Cinderella? The question is soon to be answered.

Until then, Danielle took a deep breath. _Okay, this is it_ she thought. _I'm ready_.

And that is when the door swung open.


	4. You May Call Me Mother

The woman revealed to be no older than thirty. She had dark brown bushy hair weaved into a bun, frightening grey eyes, and a slightly wrinkled forehead.

"I suppose you're the new child?" she asked with bitterness. Danielle nodded.

"What is your name?"

"Danielle Green" Danielle answered.

"Well then, Ms. Green, my name is Mary Watson, but you may call me Mother, understand child?" Danielle nodded once more.

"Very well. You may come in and unpack" said the Mother. For a start, she was sort of welcoming, but not the kind most children would expect.

*****A Fact Or Three About Ms.*****

**1)****She used to be a drug addict**

**2)****She was once married and got divorced. Mary didn't know if she really wanted at the time.**

**3)****This is not the first time she had a foster child.**

Danielle did as she was told, and walked inside. Just as she did, she literally gazed at the house, and her eyes never wanted to leave. She felt like she was in heaven, for she never seen a house as beautiful as this one. There was so much space, swirling stairs, living room with a couch and a stack full of books. There was this glow inside the white painted walls that she never saw before.

"This is the most beautiful house I've ever been in!" Danielle exclaimed. I would definitely want my vacation to be here.

"I suppose you want to unpack first?" Ms. Watson questioned. Danielle forgot about the unpacking just as soon as she arrived. She took her small black suitcase, and dashed up the stairs. She never had stairs in her old apartment.

It didn't take Danielle a long time to find a room that was meant to be hers. She chose the one near the window, because of the beautiful warm sun that made it so clear. Carefully, she unpacked her suitcase, and started to fill up the drawers with her close and other items.

The last thing she unpacked was her dead mother's photo. I could see the sadness in her eyes as she placed the photo near her new bed.

Danielle didn't feel like she was ready to leave just yet. _Maybe I could take in that new room smell…_ But her "smelling party" was interrupted as Ms. Watson walked into the room.

"I see you unpacked. You did a nice job. Now go quickly eat your lunch, and I will start to give you a list of chores. What do you say?" she asked.

Danielle hesitated, until she finally said, "Yes, Mary" But then Ms. Watson gave her in a stern look, and looked at the girl that way for a six seconds until slapping her right across the face.

"What did I say before?" Ms. Watson asked.

"You said, 'My name is Mary, but you may call me Mother, understand child?'" Danielle said, with the hint of sternness in her voice.

"Exactly" said Ms. Watson

"But you said, that I _may_ call you Mother, so it is my choice on whether or not I get to call you Mother" replied Danielle.

"You _will _call me as I tell you!"

"You could have said that when we met"

"I am older, and children must obey their elders!"

"But you are NOT MY REAL MOM! SO IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I CALL YOU!" shouted Danielle.

Ms. Watson was shocked, not because Danielle shouted at her, but because it was the first time a child raised her voice over her. There was a dead silence, but it was broken by Ms.

"You are to go to bed without supper tonight. But you will still do the chores! Do you UNDERSTAND?!"

Once again, all was quiet. Silently, Danielle nodded her head, looking down on the floor, with shame on her eyes, just as her new Mother would have wanted her to.


	5. The Man in the Bookstore

The next few moments in the story are also, really essential to the story. This is when the troubled and the not so troubled meet for the first time. (Sounds familiar?).

Danielle was carrying a stack of books on a cart, for a return. Ms. Watson, or 'Mother' said that these books were too old and beat up, which was clearly not that true to Danielle. The books looked new and fresh. Or maybe it was just something to keep her busy.

I followed her eyes as she looked at all of the huge skyscrapers and buildings she never really saw in her old beat up neighborhood. It was going to take a long time to a just too.

She stopped by a bookstore, that looked old fashioned, and had the name "Jeffrey's Bookstore", a pretty dull name. As Danielle opened the door, the first thing she noticed was-a book. Hundreds, or maybe a hundred two, books stacked right next to each other, not having no space for itself. She wouldn't want to be all cramped like the book.

Danielle continued in a rush, trying to please her new Mother by getting her chores done early. However, she couldn't just leave the books for now-the owner wasn't even around. Or was he?

She soon heard mysterious footsteps that approached the store's cashier desk. The owner of the steps revealed to be an old man with grey hair, and grey eyes that immediately gave away his age. He had grey, tired eyes. Under the eyelid, there were tiny marks, like the ones you get when you wake up from the morning.

Slowly, Danielle approached with her stack of books. But as soon as she looked at the man, a small hint of recognition occurred, but she didn't know why.

"Are you Jeffrey?" asked Danielle.

The man raised an eyebrow. "If that's what it says on the sign. Are you here for a return?" he asked. Danielle nodded.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"I always know what a customer needs. You get that a lot when you run a bookstore for fifty years" said the man, Jeffrey.

"Well then. I'll just leave the books and be on my way" said Danielle.

"Wait a second! You must get a reseat!" Jeffrey said as he took out a paper from a nearby notebook. He observed the books carefully, writing down the name of the book, the book owner, and the date returned. When he saw the name of the person returning it, he led out a cold shutter.

*****A Few Facts About Jeffrey Schneider*****

**1****He was divorced twenty years ago.**

**2)****He came to America from Germany when he was five years old, a few years or so after the second World War.**

**3)****The bookstore was run by his family before they died. He is one of the few living members of the Schneider clan.**

**4)****Jeffrey can play the accordion.**

Danielle looked at the man skeptically, as if she knew him before. Well, she couldn't, could she? Everyone in this town new Jeffrey Schneider, the old man who owns the bookstore that has lasted for fifty years so far. He even looked familiar to me, and I never forget a face, or a soul.

As Jeffrey handed Danielle the receipt, a hint of recognition came to him as well. He smiled at the girl, as she continued to look around the bookstore.

"You may take a look around if you'd like" said Jeffrey.

Danielle hesitated, but then took the paper and looked around the bookstore. There were many books neatly labeled, and put in order of genre and the author's last name. The books smelled of dust, even when dust doesn't smell like anything at all.

She examined the book that her finger laid on. "Who is C.S. Lewis?" she asked.

Jeffrey looked at the cover, and looked at Danielle in disbelief. "You don't know who he is? My, he was a magnificent writer, who even knew Tolkien himself!" he exclaimed.

"Who's Tolkien?" Jeffrey looked at her in a surprised way, as if she might have been joking.

"You must be joking! He was one of the greatest fantasy writers! He was the author of Lord of the Rings series, and I am just surprised you don't know who he was…"

*****A Thing Or Two About Danielle*****

**Danielle didn't know how to read. **

I guess you all finally found out who she reminded you of at this start. But I won't say anything now. I did this mistake before, but I won't do it now. You, dear reader, will know everything just as soon as the time comes.


End file.
